It Started With A Bang
by mxearthling
Summary: Squall Leonhart is a 20-something co-manager of Red Leather, a café owned by one Genesis Raphsodos. While training the café's newest employee, Cloud, things go a little crazy and a cop named Zack Fair steps up to save the day. Watch as Squall and company attempt to survive the shithole that is the early to mid-20s, seeking fulfillment, purpose, friends, and even love.


Red Leather Café was a quaint little coffeehouse settled on the corner of a sleepy intersection. It was just a few blocks from a major street that held a plethora of mainstream cafés and food chains that saw far more business than Red Leather would ever see - not that it's owner minded. Genesis Raphsodos' philosophy was that if someone could buy something from a major chain and actually _like_ it, then they would never appreciate true coffee or pastries and should therefor never step foot inside of his café. Thankfully, Red Leather (somehow) had a large amount of reliable regulars that saw to it that Mr. Raphsodos could pay the rent, as well as his employees.

Squall was pretty sure it had something to do with Mr. Raphsodos' model husband, Sephiroth, who often stopped by the café for his usual order of lavender tea. Squall was _also_ pretty sure that said model husband had a fan club composed of loyal regulars who often liked to sit around and sigh about how pretty he was while spending unreasonable amounts of money on too many scones and too much coffee.

It was a good gig, as far as Squall was concerned. Genesis Raphsodos, he had discovered, was one of the few business owners who preferred his employees to his patrons. Most of the customers who came to Red Leather weren't assholes, and when they _were_ assholes, Squall could call them as such without being worried about getting fired.

The only thing he ever saw fit to complain about was his position. He was co-manager alongside a nice, if somewhat terrifying when provoked, Tifa Lockhart. He hated being in a position of leadership, but Mr. Raphsodos had said he was reliable and that if he turned down the position it would go to either Yuffie Kisaragi or Selphie Tilmitt and Squall, however apathetic he could be, was certainly not going to let that happen. Red Leather would cease to be standing within a week if either of them got their hands on a position that involved managing _anything_. (He was pretty sure Mr. Raphsodos knew that and was bluffing, but Squall didn't want to take the chance.)

He supposed it wasn't all bad. He made good money, his hours were reasonable, and his boss was strange, as well as an occasional jackass, but not a slave driver.

All in all, Squall really enjoyed working at Red Leather.

He did not, however, enjoy being held at gun point while some punk badgered the new trainee, Cloud Strife, into opening the register.

 _Fuck._

Squall was standing just a few feet behind the trainee, off to the side, with his arms held above his head. He was surprisingly calm, though he was sure the gravity of the situation would come tumbling down on him any second.

Cloud was struggling with getting the register open, his hands faintly shaking, and the punk was growing impatient.

"Hey," Squall called.

The trainee's shoulders sagged when the gun was suddenly trained on Squall rather than himself, the punk looking almost comically surprised that Squall had dared to address him.

The robber stepped closer to the counter and asked, "Do you want to get fucking shot!?"

"No," he serenly replied. "But I'm the manager, so I'll have an easier time getting the register open for you. That guy's new. Leave him out of this."

The trainee gave him a wide-eyed look over his shoulder. Squall didn't know why he was giving him that look, and he didn't exactly have the time to decipher it because the punk was gesturing to the register with the gun.

"Get over here, then!"

Squall briskly stepped forward and lightly nudged Cloud out of the way, the fluffy-haired boy jerking his arms up above his head now that the other had taken over. Squall thought he heard him mutter an apology, which puzzled him.

Why was he apologizing for being scared? They were seconds away from getting _shot_ if they didn't do what this guy said. Any normal person would be freaking out.

 _Does that make me abnormal?_ Squall thought.

 _Probably_.

As Squall took the offered bag from the robber and opened the register, he could see a figure moving behind the guy out of the corner of his eye. The sole customer who had been there in the café trying to inch toward the door, probably.

The adrenaline finally kicking in when the figure _did not_ , in fact, head for the door - but instead stood directly behind the robber and yelled, "Look, over here!"

The robber whirled around with his gun raised and fired and, well, Squall didn't see what happened next because what he automatically thought to do was drop the back of cash and get down to the ground, grabbing Cloud's sleeve and dragging the other down along with him. His ears rang from the impossibly _loud_ gunshot, heart thumping hard against his chest as he hoped the man who'd called out hadn't been hit.

The next minute or so was a blur.

A man - the same figure who'd shouted - came behind the counter and assured them things were alright and that he was an off-duty cop. He had startingly blue eyes and spiky black hair as well as a bright smile, which made Squall wonder what there was to even smile about.

Squall looked over the counter and saw the would-be thief unconscious on the ground and handcuffed to one of the bolted down tables, blood running from what looked to be a probably-broken nose.

Cloud was looking a little paler than usual so Squall sort of awkwardly placed a hand on his arm and said, "It's alright now." He wasn't the best at being comforting, but he could _try_ , at least.

He supposed it worked because Cloud shot him a grateful smile.

"What the fu-"

Squall turned at the sound of that familiar voice and was greeted with the sight of Yuffie standing in the doorway to the break room/store room, one earphone dangling down and the other still lodged in her ear, a half-eaten pumpkin seed muffin in her hand.

 _I completely forgot she was here..._

"We almost got robbed," Squall said instead of voicing his thoughts.

The off-duty cop, who'd been chattering away on his cell, lowered his phone and said a cheery, "But I dealt with it! Backup's on the way so there's no reason to worry, ma'am."

"Wha- don't call me _ma'am_! Do I _look_ middle-aged?" Yuffie cried.

The officer went wide-eyed and stammered out a reply as Squall thought, _Is that really what's important right now?_

"Whatever!" Yuffie said, gesturing widely. "I would have taken the guy out myself if I'd known what was happening!"

Cloud finally piped up to ask a confused, "How loud did you have your music?"

Squall sort of tuned out the conversation/argument that ensued, glancing over to where he could see the cracked paint and plaster of the wall across the café where the bullet had embedded itself. He idly wondered how the cop had dodged it, but chalked it up to fast reflexes and actual training when it came to having guns aimed his way.

Squall waved a hand at Yuffie and Cloud (though the latter had only said the one question) to silence them and said, to the officer, "Thank you. What you did was risky... but it saved us, and stopped that guy from stealing everything."

The cop looked a little surprised at his gratitude but recovered quickly, giving him a thumbs up. "It's no problem! I was just doing my job!"

Squall was about to reply when he heard the tell-tale sound of police sirens outside, the red and blue of the squad cars flashing through the front window and lighting up the walls of the café. He clicked his mouth shut and suddenly realized he should probably call Mr. Raphsodos before he saw his own coffeehouse had almost been robbed on the local news.

Suddenly very weary, Squall resigned himself to making a phone call he most certainly did not want to make and talking to police officers he most certainly did not want to talk to.

 _And my day was going so well, too..._ , he thought as he reached for his cell phone.


End file.
